Flying Tiger, Crouching Dragon
by Fanwright
Summary: WW2 AU. The year is 1942. Sokka is a member of the famed Flying Tigers aviation group, foreign pilots tasked with the job of protecting the skies over southern China. Shot down over hostile territory, its up to Azula and her squad to escort him back to his base. Will they agree to his offer of a reward for doing so? One-shot, pending voter approval for continuation.


**-Flying Tiger, Crouching Dragon-**

**An A:TLA / WW2 AU One-shot**

**Rated: M, for language**

Spring, 1942. Fields south of Chungking, China.

Idiot.

That was the one word that registered in Sokka's mind when he narrowly escaped death in a flaming cockpit, descending by parachute, cut by shrapnel and stained with motor oil, into an unknown and hostile land.

He should have known better than to pick a fight with a much more nimble Japanese plane. It would have dance circles around his junked up, rag-assed Tomahawk any day in a dogfight. He should have known better than to take one on alone, without back up. He should have known better than to come in at the angle he did in order take it on. He should have known better… but he didn't.

Maybe it was the trill, the chance to rack up another kill to his tally. One more and he would've been an ace. One more and he would've had the bragging rights to back up his skills and claims. One more and he would've gained the respect of his peers, who always belittled him despite his efforts. Just one more… but he didn't get it.

He couldn't.

He was driven by greed, glory, and a desperate need for recognition. After all, he was technically a mercenary. And each kill he bagged nabbed him a hefty five hundred dollar bounty, plenty of added incentive for a broke, glory-seeking pilot. His opponent…

His opponent was driven by the need to survive. His opponent was driven by duty and country, even if it was a country that was bullying its neighbors.

Will and machine mixed into a potent combination to take him down and kill him, if not to humble him. What experience and logic he had accumulated after four kills crashed to the ground, spiraling out of control in a fiery inferno, leaving behind a long black trail of smoke.

Idiot.

That was the word he was thinking about now as he dangled precariously by the branch of the only tree around for miles, still cut by shrapnel and stained with motor oil, still tangled within the ropes of his parachute.

And it was surely the word that the three young Chinese women, dressed in military khakis and armed with pistols and rifles, were thinking about as they observed Sokka with varying degrees of curiosity or disinterest from below.

"Swell…" Sokka sighed heavily, looking upon the three women as he stopped his futile struggle to release himself from the harness.

Hopefully, his day wouldn't get any worse than it already had. Hopefully, these women were on his side and would at least try to help him out. But God and the universe had a funny way of playing around with Sokka when he was in a pickle. They just might be playing with him now…

By the white sun emblems on the caps they wore, Sokka felt thankful that these women were at least apart of Chiang Kai-shek's National Army. He bore the same emblem on the back of his flight jacket. Although he heard stories on the base that said otherwise, Sokka believed that the Reds in China were no friendlier to foreign pilots like him as the Japanese surely were to everyone else. That said, his association with Nationalists only guaranteed he wouldn't be shot on sight.

And from the looks of at least two of his potential 'allies', he could tell they were weighing their options, deciding whether to leave him behind for either the Reds or the Japanese. He could feel sweat trickling down his forehead now as he smiled nervously at them. He was completely at their mercy, without even having the ability to plead for his life in their language. If only he could cut himself down and show them the blood chit on his jacket, show them the written promise of reward for bringing back a downed pilot safely to his base…

"I guess they're just enjoying the show… for now," he sighed heavily, lazily waving his hand at them in greeting, attempting to widen his smile despite his fowl mood at being shot down.

One of them, who looked half-White and half-Chinese, sporting a faded pink worker's scarf, waved back at him rather enthusiastically after shouldering her rifle. She said something in Chinese Sokka couldn't understand, but by the way she sounded and the way she waved, he imagined she said something like 'hi, cutie!' That was a comforting thought at least, if not an odd one. How can a soldier be so… flirty in a time like this?

The other two did not respond to Sokka's gesture as they continued to observe him from the ground.

One, who looked unusually pale, seemed to stare blankly at him, as if a pilot hanging from a tree by his parachute was the most unimpressive, boring and least shocking thing she had ever seen. Well, for all Sokka knew, it was. She was a soldier after all, and this was China. He knew how bad the fighting was on the ground here. She may have seen things. And from the unusual collection of bayonets and knives she had stuffed into her ammo belt, Sokka wondered if she was ready to see more.

The last one, by far, was the most menacing looking one, the one Sokka was growing the most uncomfortable with as her stare turned into a murderous glare. It was as if this woman had a permanent scowl on her face. To Sokka, she may have been either mad at her comrades, mad at having to deal with him, or just mad in general, maybe even mad at the whole world. He couldn't blame her though. There was much to be mad about in the world right now.

From the look of it she was probably the group's leader, judging by the little bits of insignia she had and the officer's holster she wore. That didn't comfort him much though, since she was the only one with her rifle not slung over her shoulder.

She quickly tore her gaze away from Sokka as she glared rather pointedly at the happy one for acting so nice. She yelled something in Chinese, possibly an order, as she shoved the happy one rather harshly by the shoulder, pointing a stiff finger at Sokka. This couldn't be good.

The leader then swiftly aimed her rifle at him, with the happy one reluctantly following her lead, aiming hers at the hapless pilot.

The gloomy one merely continued to look at him blankly, unmoved by the actions of her comrades as the leader began shouting at him.

Sokka flinched, struggling around in his harness while trying to shield himself with one of his hands.

"Whoa, _whoa_, HEY! Don't do that! C'mon, don't point that thing at me!" he cried out desperately.

The happy one looked even more reluctant now, lowering her rifle for a moment only to be shoved by the leader again to aim it. She continued shouting at Sokka, glaring at him intensely with those fiery amber eyes.

"Hey, c'mon! I'm on your side, damn it! I'm yelling English at you for fuck sake, not Japanese, you fucking idiot!" he yelled back at the leader.

She suddenly stopped, lowering her rifle just a bit as Sokka saw her raise an eyebrow at his vulgar statement. In the brief pause he realized that the leader could understand him.

"Hey…hey, you understood me, right? You can speak English?" Sokka asked, looking almost ecstatic upon his realization.

The leader's face twisted into a deeper scowl as she glared at the pilot, a little flair of anger glinting in her eyes as she seemed to mentally curse herself for the slip up.

"Yes… I speak English," she said reluctantly, still aiming her rifle.

Sokka picked up on the slightest hint of a British accent in her voice. It was actually quite lovely to hear. There wasn't a single trace of her native tongue as she spoke.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed, elated to have run in to someone who was bilingual, "I thought I would never meet someone who speaks English out here."

"Lucky you," she hissed, still aiming her rifle at him.

"Hey, c'mon now! We're friends, right? We're fighting on the same side. I got the emblem on my jacket to prove it," Sokka said, trying to turn himself around to show her the flag of her country on his jacket.

"The last I heard, there were no foreigners flying in our planes, much less crazy enough to fight for us," she said.

"Well, sister, times have changed. Americans have got a bone to pick with the Japanese now, in case you haven't heard," Sokka said, rather proud of himself, "And ol' mister Chiang is letting guys like me fly in his army."

"Is that so?" said the leader, raising an eyebrow as she smirked, her gun ever at the ready, "Well, we must be more desperate for soldiers than I thought if we let mediocre pilots like you try to fight in our war."

"Hey! Who you callin'…" Sokka started, until his brief surge of anger quickly dissipated after remembering just how he got into this mess.

"Ugh… never mind," he reluctantly stated, hanging his head downward. The leader let out a slight, low chuckle as her comrades looked at her rather apprehensively. What in the world was she talking about with this pilot?

"Oh, and I _do _apologize for not knowing about America's new interest in our _little_ war here in China," she said, "News like that seems to…_fly_ over our heads without us noticing it. After all… we have been busy dealing with more important matters than reading the news. Namely killing Japanese."

Her last words came out as a venomous hiss as she glared at Sokka with more intensity. And did she just make a jab at him, a twisted joke? Well, he could hardly do anything about it, for she did have a point. News like that seemed unimportant when you're fighting for your life.

"Okay, look… we got off on the wrong foot here," he sighed, trying to salvage his situation. The last thing he needed was a pissed off, golden-eyed Chinese soldier, who was supposed to be his ally, willing to put a bullet between his eyes.

"If you ladies can help me down from here…" he continued, before being interrupted by the leader.

"Ladies?" she retorted sharply as her eyebrow rose.

"Uh… you _soldiers_," Sokka corrected himself, "If you _soldiers_ can help me down from here, I might have a way to help you out."

"Oh? And how is that?" she inquired, aiming her rifle at him again.

"Well, you won't find out if you don't cut me down," he said, smiling, "No tricks. Cross my heart and hope to… not die. I just offer a friendly deal and a promise of compensation from your government. What do you say?"

The leader's comrades grew more apprehensive as the two continued to talk in English. Sokka could tell the happy one grew particularly worried as she started asking emotional questions in Chinese. Even the gloomy one started to show some life as she also inquired about what the two were saying, in a rather monotone way however.

The leader merely silenced them both with a series of harsh sounding phrases, once again shoving the happy one. She then returned her glaring eyes at Sokka, thinking the offer over.

"Ugh… my joints are killing me," Sokka muttered to himself, trying to shift his weight in a more comfortable way as he continued to hang by his parachute in the tree.

The leader of the small group seemed to have made up her mind by the time Sokka started moving. She lowered her rifle, pointing a finger toward the parachute as she ordered her comrades around. From the looks of it, she wanted them to cut him down, which relieved Sokka greatly. Maybe this day was looking up after all, he thought. If he could just talk to the leader, maybe he would convince her to escort him back to his base safely.

The happy one looked much happier now. She seemed glad she wouldn't shoot anyone today, as she gave the leader a quick hug. The leader, of course, seemed irritated by this and shoved her away, flicking the happy one's forehead as she harshly ordered her to cut Sokka down from the tree. The gloomy one merely rolled eyes and sighed heavily as she took out a bayonet from her pouch. It seemed cutting Sokka down would be nothing but a chore for her.

Up into the tree the two climbed as their leader turned around and crouched in the dirt, scanning her surroundings warily, her rifle at the ready, as the two got to work.

From where Sokka was in the tree he couldn't see anything moving for miles. Just flat, dry farmland dotted by a couple of trees, with the occasional cicada whirling as the wind gently kicked dust up into the air. He could see the smoke plumes from where his plane crashed however, which was sure to draw someone else's attention.

The branches began to shake more fiercely as the two soldiers began cutting the ropes of his parachute. Sokka shook as well as he began to do what he could from his end. Before he knew it, however, he fell to the hard ground below, unable to brace himself as he fell on his side.

"Argh! Damn it!" he cussed, his already sore body growing more sore at the sudden impact.

As he recovered from the fall by slowly brushing off some dirt, the leader turned around from her position and made her way toward Sokka.

"Okay," he breathed heavily as he struggled to get up, coming face to face with the leader "Now that that's out of the way, we can…" but he didn't finish.

The leader delivered a swift yet heavy blow to the side of his ribs with the butt of her rifle before Sokka could finish. He felt the wind knocked out of him as he clutched his side.

"Ugh! Fuck!" he cussed again, "Wha-What the hell was that for!?"

"That's for calling me a 'fucking' idiot, you fucking idiot," said the leader, bearing her teeth at him and looking as dangerous as ever, despite showing some discomfort at having to resort to vulgarity.

Her comrades had climbed down from the tree by now, the happy one gasping in horror as she saw the leader strike Sokka with her rifle. She darted to the pilot and attempted help him out, while the gloomy one merely looked on, putting away her bayonet as she crouched down to scan her surroundings.

"Damn… fine. I _guess_ I deserved that one too," Sokka sighed, recovering his breath as the happy one began cleaning off the dust from his face with her pink scarf. He really needed to learn to control himself, he thought.

The leader berated the happy one again in Chinese, seemingly questioning her actions. She merely retorted with a series of phrases ranging from pouty sounding to cute sounding, pinching his cheek with one hand as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, as if in a hug. What was up with this woman?

"Uh… what's she saying?" Sokka asked the leader as she shushed the happy one in the middle of an apparent argument.

"She says I can't hit you anymore because you're apparently 'too cute' to hurt," said the leader harshly, looking rather annoyed, "She likes foreigners for some disgusting reason. It must be her white-side getting to her head again."

"Well, thank you!" Sokka said, turning to the happy one with a smile, even though he knew she wouldn't understand him, "I think you just made my day a lot better by protecting me from _mean_ dragon lady. Really, thank you."

The leader growled in annoyance, muttering something in Chinese under breath.

The happy one looked at him in surprise, asking the leader to translate. She rolled her eyes as she reluctantly did so, prompting the happy one to let out a yelp of joy as she hugged him tightly, understanding what her angry translator said. What a weird woman, he thought.

The leader walked up to the happy one, pinching her arm and shoving her out of the way as she released her tender hold on Sokka, berating her once again probably over a lack of discipline. The happy one pouted as she feebly tried to argue, but the leader merely shot her a glare as she ordered her away to keep an eye out for any foes.

"Now… about that proposition of yours," she stated, "What do you mean?"

Sokka didn't feel like answering her after what she did, so he merely turned around to show her the emblem on his flight jacket, which bore a notice in several different languages, including Chinese, stamped with an official seal from her government.

"'I am an American airmen,'" she read aloud in English, seemingly having no difficulty in translating the text, "'I am here to help in the war effort. My plane is destroyed. I cannot speak your language. I am an enemy of the Japanese. Please give me food and take me to the nearest Allied military post. You will be justly rewarded.'"

"And that's my deal," he said, turning around, "Simple as that. You take me back to my base in Kunming, I get back into another plane, and you get rewarded for your efforts."

"And just what _is _my government promising to reward me exactly, if I take you back?" she inquired, unconvinced, "I saw no explicit statement of the kind of reward I can get. I may just get nothing for my efforts."

"Or you will," Sokka retorted, "My superiors have come through on their promises before, at least when it comes to _my_ payment. I'm sure they'll come through for yours. Guns, bullets, grenades, food, money, whatever you guys need."

"And that's the point," she said, looking angry, "They come through on _your_ payments and _your_ compensation. I doubt they'll bother sparing supplies to my group, even when we clearly need them. They'll pay you a fat sum for killing a single pilot once you go back. I'm sure of it. While my people get nothing but a fistful of bullets to take on the entire Japanese Army."

Sokka didn't know what to say about that. He'd seen action before that much was true. Yet, he never saw the kind of intense fighting on the ground that soldiers like her faced on a day-to-day basis.

"And to take you to Kunming? Do even know where you are?" she asked him.

"Somewhere north of it. Maybe near… Chungking I guess," he said.

"It's a far walk either way. If you expect my squad to take you all the way south back to Kunming, on foot, through territory held by both the Japanese _and_ the Reds, you have another thing coming," she stated sternly, jabbing her rifle at him.

"Okay. Then just drop me off at a supply post along the road between the two cities. We're not that far from it, I'm sure. It's why I was flying around this area in the first place, y'know. Protecting the supply route by air?"

"Oh, and a fine job you've done with that," she said harshly, causing Sokka to grit his teeth. He wasn't getting a break from her anytime soon.

The happy one and the gloomy one turned their heads as they listened in on the conversation they couldn't understand. It seemed to grow tenser by the minute.

"My group and I have more important issues to tend to than taking a side trip to Kunming to drop off some poor excuse for a pilot. My orders say to move north toward the front in Chungking. And I intend to go there, preferably without you as deadweight," She stated.

"What?! You can't just leave me here! I'm on your side too!" Sokka blurted out.

"You're a mercenary is what you are," she said sternly, "If what you said before was true, about payments and such, then you're less than a soldier to me and poor one at that. And I don't tolerate soldiers who fight for coin instead of country. They easily run from the fight. So you're not worth the trouble."

That got to Sokka. Not worth the trouble? Not worth the recognition? Sure, he was in it for the money and glory. He was in it for the chance to prove something too. On the base, they ridiculed him for his inexperience at flying, having lied in some cases to be with his unit. He wanted to prove them wrong. Back home, they ridiculed him for not having the 'right stuff' to fly in a warplane. He wanted to prove them wrong. Didn't he deserve a chance to fight in the war too, even if it wasn't for his country's freedom, but for another's?

The leader began walking away, intending to leave Sokka behind, as she ordered her comrades to move out. The happy one didn't look so happy anymore as she looked worriedly at the two bickering soldiers. The gloomy one couldn't care less as she got up and followed the leader.

No… it couldn't end this way for him, he thought. He'd show her.

"Hold on a minute," called out Sokka, making the leader look back at him with a glare, "Hold on a _damn_ minute."

He walked up to the leader on the dirt road, giving her one his own glares.

"I may be a mercenary to you," he continued, "I may be a guy who is in it for the cash and I may be _nothing _in your eyes… but, I'm one stubborn son of a bitch, lady. And I'm the best damn fighter you'll ever see. You knock me down, and I'll come right back up and give you the what for!"

The leader cocked an eyebrow as she was seemingly surprised and amused by this sudden outburst. She began to smirk.

"Is that so?" she chided.

"Damn right I will," he said sternly, "Why do you think I'm willing to get back into another plane? I'm not letting any Japanese get the best of me this time around."

The two of them seem to stare each other down. Sokka glared at the leader as if he were ready to pulverize her for ridiculing and hitting him. She, on other hand, merely smirked, her head held high, as if to look down on him even after all he said.

Never, in all his life, had he met a woman, or even a soldier, quite like her. In a short span of time she was able to belittle him and anger him without even seeming to try. And she really did have a good point: what incentive did she _really_ have for bringing him back? His superiors were good on his payments most of the time, but they were truly notorious at skimping out on rewards for rescued pilots.

The gloomy one and the happy one tensed up, not sure on whether to react to this latest development as an act of hostility or stupidity. The man had no gun, yet he looked as if he wanted take on the best soldier in their group. Was he crazy?

The leader hardly seemed threatened by him as she continued to smirk. She'd seen combat before. She knew when she was really in danger of being attacked. But as her comrades gazed at her, they saw a look of amusement in those gold eyes of hers. What was she thinking?

The leader was the first to break off from the tense moment, giving a low, bemused chuckle. Sokka raised an eyebrow as he looked at her in confusion? What was up with her?

She turned to her comrades with that same bemused look on her face, uttering something in Chinese to them, as if she couldn't believe this foreigner had the gall to stare her down as he did.

"What's your name, American?" she said as she turned around, still smirking.

"My name… is for my friends," he replied sternly, "Even for acquaintances… but not you. Unless, of course, you think we're friends?"

"I don't believe we are, American," she said, "Only my friends have the courage to go where I go and fight where I fight."

"Then you have very few friends," he retorted, looking at the only two companions she had.

"Indeed, friends with courage, as I said before," she said, more firmly, "I have no use for those without it."

"Oh yeah? What about stubbornness? Persistence?" he inquired.

"That depends. How persistent are you in your efforts to get where you want to go, American?" she asked, another smirk on her face as she studied Sokka, attempting gauge his answer.

It didn't take him very long to think of one though. He meant everything he said. If he had to fight through Japanese on the ground to get back to his base the long way… so be it. At least he would be in a group. Going by foot alone in hostile territory was just asking for trouble. And next time he may not come across a group that wouldn't shoot at him on sight.

Did he really have a choice on where to go next?

"Very persistent," he said firmly, studying the woman with equal interest, "That is if you really _are_ going to Chungking. I guess I have no choice but to take the long way with you."

Sokka reached into his jacket pocket as both locked eyes with each other, neither looking away. He did it as slowly as he could, so as not to arouse the group's hostility. The gloomy one and the happy one took a step back as he did so, worried by his move, but the leader hardly stirred as she eyed him suspiciously.

He produced a pack of cigarettes, pulling out one by his mouth as he held it between his lips.

"Got a light?" he said casually.

The leader blinked, surprised at his request, raising an eyebrow as she continued to study the pilot with suspicion. She held her gaze with his as she produced a pristine looking silver lighter from her pocket. When she struck it and covered the small fire with her hand, Sokka noticed that the color of the flame was blue. Interesting, he thought. He'd never seen a lighter like that before. Then again, he never saw eyes quite like hers before either.

He leaned in close as she offered to light his cigarette, his eyes never leaving hers as he continued to stare her down. The tip caught the flame easily, lighting almost instantly. Some lighter, he thought. As he leaned back he took a long, steady drag, letting out a small puff of smoke into the air.

"Damn… I needed that," he said raggedly, attempting to put the pack away as the leader stowed her lighter into a pouch on her belt.

But before he could put the pack away, she reached out a swift hand to grab his wrist, holding it firmly. His initial surprise by the action grew into utter confusion as she reached into his pack and produced her own cigarette. As she let her grip go, the leader held it between her two fingers as she slipped it between her lips, a new smirk on her face as she seemed amused by his confusion.

"Well, if you wanted a smoke, you could have…" but Sokka didn't finish.

Just as she reached out unexpectedly to grab his wrist, the leader moved unexpectedly slower toward him, almost daringly. What was she doing now?

As Sokka continued to study her with more confusion, the leader leaned in closer to him until their faces were mere centimeters away. His eyes widened at the action, his heart beating at a faster pace than usual, sucking more smoke into his lungs than usual as he attempted to gasp. It was as if he were holding his breath now as the woman brought the cigarette she held between her lips closer to his own.

She looked up at him from what she was doing, smirking when she caught the look of utter confusion on his face as she lighted her cigarette with the one he still had in his mouth.

The happy one seemed particularly giddy at the action her leader was performing as she let out a tiny squeak. The gloomy one's eyes widened, completely caught off guard by this. This was something she had definitely never seen before…

When the leader's cigarette was lighted, she pulled back, looking satisfied with herself as she took an equally long drag on her cigarette. She let out a puff of smoke in Sokka's direction, causing the pilot to cough furiously, his eyes watery.

"Welcome to China… Flying Tiger," said the leader, indicating the patch of his unit on his jacket when he recovered from his fit of coughs, "Always a pleasure to have another willing recruit for the struggle on the ground."

She let out a low chuckle as she turned away from him, motioning her hand for her comrades to come with her as they began their trek down the dirt road.

Sokka couldn't tear his gaze away from her as she walked away, followed closely behind by her companions.

"Good to be here… Dragon Lady," he said to himself half-sarcastically, following after the group of soldiers.

This was going to be an interesting war.

* * *

><p>"You sure it was wise bringing him along, Azula?" asked Mai quietly as she looked back at the American pilot trying to teach a bemused Ty Lee how to speak English.<p>

The sun was still high in the sky and the weather quite balmy as the group walked along the dirt road, passing the occasional group of peasant refugees as they stumbled across vast expanses of dried rice paddies.

"I thought I told you not to call me by that nickname again, Mai," she hissed, glaring at her squadmate as she puffed cigarette smoke from her nostrils.

Mai grumbled to herself as she tried to correct the mistake.

"Fine. But you still haven't answered me, _Lan_. Should we have brought this guy along?"she asked again.

Lan hated her nickname. It was one some Spaniard or some Italian she met a long time ago in Shanghai had given her. She never knew what the name meant. She didn't care. But the name stuck to her, to the point where those she knew insisted upon calling her by that name. They thought it fit her, for some reason. Some even thought it was… cute to call her by that name.

She hated it.

All she knew about it was that it carried a long history with it, one that she would rather forget, along with that terrible, three month long battle in the city she left behind. Ever since then she had been fighting. She had been fighting long and hard and she didn't know how much longer she could take it. She wanted out. She wanted a way to leave this all behind her, just like that name.

She'd let the slip up pass for now, she thought. There were other, more important things to consider.

"He could be useful," Lan said after taking another drag on her cigarette, "Use him as a distraction, a meat shield, a form of ransom for the communists should we get ourselves into trouble with them, or… well, anything. Much more than just a mere distraction. I dare say the possibilities are _quite_ endless with this one."

"I'd say he's useless," said Mai, glaring back at the American as he tried sounding out a word to Ty Lee, to which the girl struggled to say. What kind of word was "sweet", Mai thought. English was a weird language to her.

"Fighter pilots aren't trained like infantry, Lan," she drawled in her raspy tone.

"And you think we had formal training, Mai?"she inquired, looking at her comrade rather pointedly, "Have you forgotten Shanghai?"

"We weren't even soldiers in Shanghai, Lan. And that was a long time ago," Mai said sternly, "We've been in plenty of fights since then… Nanning, Changsha… what has this pilot been through?"

"Five little scraps with Japanese fighters, according to him," said Lan, "They keep count of such things in his unit. Gives them bonuses."

"Paper, supplies, or…" said Mai, allowing her comrade to continue.

"Paper money, possibly U.S. dollars," said Lan casually.

"Hmph… if we got a bonus for every Japanese bastard we killed…" Mai spat, trailing off, "Feh... what good is paper money here now? What we need are bullets, guns, and bayonets."

"Relax, Mai. Broaden your mind just a little bit and you will see possibilities," Lan said, rather sinisterly, putting the cigarette back between her lips "This American might be able to give us far more than a mere promise for money and guns if we return him to the proper people."

"But… I thought you said we weren't going to escort him back to his base," said Mai, confused by her comrade's motives.

"I didn't say return him to the _right_ people, did I? Only to the proper people," she smirked venomously.

"Y-You don't mean… all the way to…" Mai stuttered, her eyes widening as she realized what her comrade was implying.

Lan merely placed a hand on Mai's shoulder as she chuckled lowly, glancing back at the pilot who was still struggling to teach Ty Lee English.

"How are those lessons coming along, Ty Lee?" she called back to her.

"Great! I learned a whole sentence, Azu- I mean Lan!" she exclaimed joyfully, catching her mistake just in time, "'Hey, sweet cakes, got any food to spare?' That's what he taught me!"

The pilot seemed less enthusiastic as he removed himself from the all-Chinese conversation, clutching his belly as Lan could hear it grumble.

"Very good, Ty Lee. One sentence down and a million more to go," she congratulated her friend, "At this rate you'll learn another two before the day is out."

"H-Hey!" her comrade retorted, feeling hurt by her comment.

"Lovable mixed mutt, really," Lan said, turning back to Mai, "Like I was saying... just relax, Mai. It's going to be a _fun_ little war."

"I don't like it when you say that, Lan," she said uneasily, "You have a funny sense of fun sometimes."

"No, Mai," said Lan, looking more sinister than ever as she smirked, smoke emanating lazily from her mouth as she talked.

"It's going to be fun."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Hey everyone! Fanwright here, author of "Correspondence". I apologize for not posting more in my previous story. Things are quite busy on my end and its likely you won't see another posting from me in a while.**

**I felt a strong urge to write something however, but I just couldn't come up with anything good for my previous story. Rest assured that one is NOT abandoned. So I decided to write an historical AU crossover featuring my favorite pairing, to get my mind off this urge.**

**Now, I know what you all may be thinking and, yes, this is an odd setting to put the A:TLA characters in, especially one with a such a history to it. I just want to say that if there are historical inaccuracies, inconsistencies, or what not in the writing, or if this fic somehow offends you based on its context or history… I'm sorry. It was not my intention to offend anyone with placing them in this setting or anything else. If you feel like this should be taken down because of that reason, let me know. Sorry again for the inconsistencies.**

**That said, even though this was only meant to be a one-shot, I can see about expanding it if enough of you guys really want to see a more fleshed out story. Ill put up a poll on my profile to indicate as much.**

**Reasoning for Setting:**

**I've been taking 20th century contemporary history class and I really got into the history of this part of WW2: the 2nd Sino-Japanese War. It's a theater that, I felt, was not looked into as much when considering and AU for A:TLA. Then again, who would pick WW2 for setting right?**

**I decided to put the characters in China during this period (1937-1945) because I thought they would fit rather well into the setting, seeing that much of the show is heavily inspired by Chinese culture, particularly the Earth Kingdom. I found it an interesting setting to put them in, one where many of the characters could fit rather well since this was fairly large theater, if given just a bit of explanation. **

**There were many sides to this part of the war during this time in China, all wanting to gain control of the land. Other characters like Long Feng and his Dai Li, Zhao, Iroh, Zuko, and many more might fit well into this setting. You have modern armies with modern weapons, multiple factions, a mix of modern and medieval weaponry (Chinese soldiers were known to use dadao swords in combat, if I'm not mistaken, and women were known to be in active combat roles), cities like Shanghai with a mix of cultures that other characters can fit into. **

**So… that's basically my reasoning for not putting them into the European theater. **

**As implied in the story Sokka is apart of the Flying Tigers aviation squadron, while Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai are part of the National Revolutionary Army.**

**You don't have to squint hard enough to see a bit of sexual tension in there, right?**

**I had thought about including Jet's Freedom Fighters into the story, as well as Toph and Aang. The former would have stayed guerrillas (possibly making them communist guerrillas) and allied themselves with Azula's squad, although it would be a fragile alliance due to conflicting motives. Toph and Aang would have been refugees (though not a pairing): Aang would have been a Buddhist monk looking after Toph, who would had been blinded by gas (depressing, I know). I cut them out to focus the scene on Sokka and Azula as best I can.**

**For those who are curious about little details:**

**- Sokka's plane was a P-40 Tomahawk llB, he was shot by a Ki-43 "Hayabusa" land based fighter**

**- Sokka's "blood chit" is an official notice from the Chinese government handed out the Flying Tigers in the event of being shot down found by non-english speakers. Some were sewn onto flight jackets for visibility and identification. **

**- The cities referenced by Mai and Azula are actual battles fought in China during this time: Shanghai (1937), Nanning (1939), and 2nd Changsha (1941)**

**Anyway, just wanted to share that piece of pre-production information, if you guys were interested in it. I had a lot of fun writing this story, so I hope you guys enjoyed it as well.****  
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**Please, leave a vote if you would like to see this story continued or taken down.**

**Check out my other story, "Correspondence", if you like that one better. **

**Please, leave a constructive review when possible.**


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